leaves of hey joe

[revolutionrabbit]

leaves of hey joe
of jack, and jane
down the insane lane
where are you going
with that freaky flower in your hair
waves on a tear strewn beach
kicking the habit like a dead magazine
days spent like lose change
at the penny arcade
in the isle of the used book

strange language comes off the page
sitting in
in the dark booths
with cheap blinking lights
behind the mask like face

chasing memories like childhood leaves
wasting minutes like eternities like
watching the people walking by the ocean
looking for that moment of the joke
the one they will just never get the punch
my poems through the newspaper wall


radio noise floating down breeze
the surf slapping the shore like the pimp his whore
the music comes and goes like a juke box shooting
gallery
leaves of abyss and songs of free will
and blow a kiss down the row the feelings you hate to kill
a girl on a bench wiggles her toes
nothing new under the Greek sun
the kid reads Homer on the sand
wonders if the words will whisk away
all that funny stuff that hangs out
between pages and waves of glass
a mandala of cartoon characters
like the Ferris wheel of fortune
spinning like a lunatic top
through the frothing sea foam
through the cigarette butts
washing up on the ashtray
leaves of joe passing down
the sidewalk reading the foot steps
and the bubble gum wrappers float
counting the stars through the cracks
through the words flashing on and off
like signs of neon on a crazy street
the sounds of poets reciting on corners
and in cafes and bars their voices pop
and some of the lines drift in the night
and wind along in the silence as they
enter some ears and find a way in


the street is a temple of doom and zoom
the endless sentence is read on the poem stained wall
like a prayer that crumples
but not before it passes
the word windows hang in space
the broken things teeter on void
they walk on grounds of reasons
Buddha statues remain unmoved
though knocked for a loop
diamond sutra remains in a tear
that is about to drop in a puddle
that reflects eternity and now
huge structures gutted motionless
question unanswered still visible
in the air and wait by the road
vast stretches of the imagination
searching in the rubble for yesterday
light sources reaching here and there
through shattered openings like books
left on a table in libraries of frozen time

rainbows fall on scattered belongings
the dizzy silence speaks a million images
all tossed about like so much great ideas
the landscape buckled the heavens turn
the dark rains of old poems never written
but wait in the saxophone dreaming corners
on solid match stick nights about to flick
the thumb nail on the jazz head
then linger in fairy dust on the zero note table
over, everything has blown away, leaves of notes
sweep, one after the other along great long relief
distance, the wave, the hand, the star of wicked
thoughts reflected on once upon a thin dime
brother can you spare me a long long time
a poet once meditated here in the ruins
down by the ends of broken typewriters in the sun
of boxes of cat piss stained unfinished poetry of none

[snowman]

interesting stream of conciousness
write on
dave

[dadio]

this is the genre of poetry that I love best. So much to read, to take in.